“What do you know? You don’t know crap. You think she wouldn’t leave Aunt Haddie? Why? You did. Michelle is like you in that. She got her chance to go, and she took it. That’s what I’m doing.”
“Don’t. You can go but—” Jack grabbed onto the side of a chair.
“Don’t what?” Her mouth was twisted. “Don’t tell you the truth?” She glared, all drops of tears vanishing along with any trace of warmth.
Jack wanted to become as detached as she was. He wanted to let her leave and then he’d go back to the way things were. He’d get a bottle and leap headfirst into the void. He closed his eyes. His mouth was dry, and his throat was tight. They were on the edge of a cliff, and Replacement was about to jump off.
“You’re not blaming Michelle, you’re blaming yourself. You’re letting all that crap get into your head. You said you were chasing her. Is that it? You want to try convincing yourself that Michelle wanted to escape her little tag along?”
“Screw you.”
“Say what you want to me. You’re right. I didn’t know her. You did. But you need to know this. You walk out that door, and you’ll bury Michelle in your head. You’ll bury her in your heart. You’ll lose all the times you had with her because you can’t look at them, because you won’t be able to look at yourself. I know that. That's . . . that’s what I did with Chandler.”
Her shoulders trembled, and her hands began to shake. She began to wail, and she covered her face. Jack didn’t hesitate. He moved and pulled her close, his arms wrapping protectively around her. She pushed her face against his chest and sobbed. Jack felt her legs wobble. He swooped her up, cradling her in his arms. She turned her head against his chest, hiding her face. He carried her into the bedroom and softly laid her down.
She curled into a ball. He sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed her shoulders until she cried herself to sleep, but he continued to sit there and look at her.
He was numb with pain. Pain immobilizes people. Pain locks them in place so they spend hours, days, and lifetimes held captive.
I need to talk to Mark Reynolds. He’s undercover. He’ll help me find the meth dealers. Then I’ll go out to the Psychology Center. Jack began to make a new list.
Jack knew pain. He and pain were old friends. Jack knew only one way to deal with pain. Hunt it down and kill it.
Chapter 23 ~
Aluminum Foil and Other Kitchen Stuff
Jack was dressed and in the kitchen. He looked at the clock. Eight thirty. He wanted to get going, but he waited. Replacement had finished her shower, but she hadn’t come out of the bedroom. He looked down at the two plates of food he’d laid out on the counter.
Damn. She went back to bed.
He started opening and closing cabinets, but he couldn’t find anything. He looked beside the refrigerator and over it. Nothing. He pulled open the drawer under the stove and found an oven tray. He frowned.
The tray was rusted in places, and covered with splotches of black charred remnants. He grabbed a roll of aluminum foil and covered the entire tray in it. He opened another drawer and took out two red cloth napkins that looked like they belonged in a Chinese restaurant. He carefully laid them over the tray, put the plate on it, and arranged the fork and knife.
He opened the refrigerator, and his eyes went wide. Mrs. Stevens had left by four bags of food. Jack didn’t like that she’d used her key to come into his apartment and put the food in the refrigerator, but he was still very grateful. He poured a glass of orange juice and stood back to look at his handiwork.
I doubt she’ll throw anything at me.
He picked up the tray and walked into the bedroom. Replacement lay on the bed, curled up in a ball. Only the top of her brown hair peeked out from the white and purple comforter.
“Good morning, kid.” Jack stood at the side of the bed.
After a couple of seconds, she pulled the corner of the comforter back, and one of her green eyes peeked out. She took one look at Jack, sat bolt upright, and burst out crying.
“No. I just wanted . . .” Jack set the tray on the bureau and sat down on the bed.
Replacement grabbed him and pulled herself close. She tilted her head, pressed her face into his neck, and continued to wail. Jack tried not to cringe as she sniffled and blubbered all over him, attempting to speak. He could make out every couple of words.
“. . . sorry . . . I don’t . . . you mean . . . please don’t . . .”
Jack just let her go on. After a few minutes, he realized her nose was so stuffed up, she couldn’t breathe. He jumped up, grabbed a roll of toilet paper from the bathroom, and brought it back to her.
“Thank you. I’m so sorry. I . . .”
Jack grabbed the breakfast tray and held it out, eager to get her to stop crying. “It will get cold, and you’ll hurt my feelings.” Jack felt like a pansy saying those words, but they seemed to work.
Replacement took the tray and closed her eyes. After a few moments, she picked up the fork and started eating. Jack started breathing again.
He watched her as if she was an IED that could go off any second. After she’d taken several bites, Jack started to relax and leaned against the bureau.
“Wait.” Replacement’s voice broke. “What about you?”
Jack stood up straight. “What about me?”
“What’re you going to eat?” Replacement’s lip trembled, and she went to set the tray down.
“I made one for me too. I’ll go get it.” He hopped up from the bed, returning a few seconds later with his own plate. Only then, did Replacement pick up her fork and begin eating.
After a few mouthfuls, she lifted her head and gave a sad smile, swallowing a sob. “Thank you.”
“It’s nothing.” Just don’t cry again. “I was thinking you could sleep in this morning. So after you’ve eaten, you can just watch TV or sleep; I’m going to run a couple errands.”
“Where are you going?”
“We need some stuff. Aluminum foil and kitchen stuff.”
“Okay.”
They ate in silence, and Jack had to force himself to slow down. He timed it so he finished right when she did.
“All right.” He put his plate on hers, took the tray, and set it down. “Back to bed with you.”
Replacement scooted back under the covers. Jack pulled the comforter up and gave her an awkward tuck in.
“Good?” He leaned down, and she sat part way up and kissed his cheek.
“Good.” She smiled and rolled over.
Jack hurried out of the room. He’d already put his holster in the hallway near the door. He didn’t want Replacement to know where he was going today or why.
Jack drove straight for the psychology center. His hands were sweating. He couldn’t have asked for a better excuse to go to the college, but he still had to be careful, invite or not. If he asked too many questions, someone could still call the sheriff. He could explain it, but if someone called from the college, it always went to critical mass on Collins’s radar. WRE paid the most taxes and any issue there brought the most heat.
He turned off White Spruce Road and onto General Alexander Davidson Circle. His Impala raced up the road, hugging the turns. Speed felt good, real good. He loved a rush.
I like it too much.
He was always tempted to go all out. Go faster. Go harder. He took his foot off the gas and coasted into the small parking lot. There were a dozen cars in it. He parked, got out, and stretched.
Jack scanned all of the cars in the parking lot. None seemed out of the ordinary except a silver Audi. Parked at a slight angle, it took up two parking spaces. He was grateful for the brief walk to the front of the building because it gave him the chance to burn off his nervous energy.
He opened the large glass door. A gray carpet with black and red flecks covered the floor. The two staircases were a light oak, and the railing was metal and clear plastic. A very large counter stood before a light brown wooden wall. In the daylight, Jack could now see that fou
r doors, not two, were evenly spaced along the wall, each with a name plaque. He liked the look. It was a mixture—modern with a natural feel. The place even smelled new.
A young, pretty girl with short black hair sat behind the big desk, but no one else was visible.
“Good morning.” She seemed eager. “Can I help you, sir?”
“Good morning. I was wondering if I might see Dr. Hahn?”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No, he asked me to stop by for a tour.”
“May I have your name?” She was too perky for Jack.
“Jack Stratton.”
“Certainly, one moment, please.” She pressed some buttons on the phone. “Karen? Is Dr. Hahn in? Can you interrupt?” She covered the phone and whispered, “He’s very busy.” She looked up and grinned. “Okay.” She hung up and looked back at Jack. “Just one minute.”
“That’s fine.” Jack leaned onto the counter, and the girl leaned closer. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“Stacy.”
“Do you have a long shift ahead of you, Stacy?”
“Yeah,” she pouted. “I have to work until noon.”
Three hours? Killer shift. Wait until you graduate kid.
“That’s rough.” Jack tried to look sympathetic. “Do you ever have to work a late shift?”
“No. We close at five every day.” She put her chin on the back of her hand as she looked up at him.
“Does the whole center close or just the reception area?”
“People with card access can stay after hours I guess. Why?”
“I’m just curious. I hate those cards. Your picture always looks funny.”
She sat up straight. “Mine doesn’t look funny.”
Jack rolled his eyes. “Sure.”
“It doesn’t. Look.” She handed Jack her card.
Computer chip inside. Card reader. No key punch access. All doors monitored and recorded. The cards are color-coded. Hers is yellow.
“It’s a beautiful picture, but it doesn’t do you justice.” Jack made sure that he brushed her hand as he handed the card back to her.
“Thank you,” she sighed.
“You mentioned . . .”
Dr. Hahn walked through the door to the far left of the reception desk. A dark wooden cane was in his left hand, and he leaned slightly on it as he walked. He was dressed in a medium blue suit with a matching tie and flashed a confident white smile at the receptionist. A young man walked through the door after him. He was tall too, just over six feet with blond hair and blue eyes. He wore khaki pants and a white shirt.
“Officer.” Dr. Hahn’s countenance became more somber as he approached Jack with an outstretched hand. “It’s certainly a pleasure that you have accepted my offer so swiftly.”
“I appreciate the invitation. I really wanted to see the work Michelle has done.”
“If it is okay with you, I have asked Brendan here to begin the tour while I conclude a previously scheduled appointment.”
“Certainly, Doctor. I apologize for the short notice.”
“No trouble at all. I shall not be long. If you’ll excuse me.” The doctor hurried off, and Jack turned to look at Brendan.
The young man waved then shook Jack’s outstretched hand. “Brendan Phillips. I’m sorry about Michelle. She was very nice.”
The strength of Brendan’s grip surprised Jack. He looked Brendan up and down and instantly disliked him. The young man raised no suspicions; Jack didn’t like the type of person he seemed to be: manicured hair, muscular, handsome, and preppy. It was a combination that reeked of privilege and always rubbed Jack the wrong way.
“Thank you. Did you know Michelle long?”
“Just a few months. She came to the center to work on the computer systems.” Brendan walked over to the right-hand staircase, and Jack followed a step behind.
“And what do you do here, Brendan?”
“I’m working on my doctorate in neuropsychology.”
“I’d have pegged you for a football player.”
“I was in high school. Quarterback—but I tore my rotator cuff. I changed my major and never looked back.”
“Do you take classes here?” Jack asked.
“Take? This semester I’m teaching,” Brendan said. “I teach some of Dr. Hahn’s introductory courses and I work here in the lab.”
“Lab?”
“It’s on the lower level. We do a lot of work on brain scans—brain imaging.”
“Imaging? Like creating a picture of what people are thinking?”
Brendan looked away from Jack for a second, but Jack still saw him make a face and smirk. He turned back and explained. “No, that technology is still years away. We use the fMRI to perform scans and see patterns. Images of how different stimuli affect the brain.”
Jack nodded.
If he keeps that smirk on his face I’m going to smack him upside the head and see how that stimuli affects his brain.
Brendan pointed out various conference rooms and offices on the third floor. Jack noticed the many warning and danger signs posted throughout the building.
This looks like a fun place to work.
Jack pointed at the Volatile Materials - Use Caution sign and quipped, “I thought the most you had to worry about in the psychology center was falling off the shrink’s couch and getting a headache.”
Brendan frowned. “This is a fully functional laboratory environment. It's world renowned.”
Jack tried to backpedal. “I’m sure it is. I just had different expectations.”
Brendan turned and continued with the tour. The whole center appeared to have been recently remodeled; there was still that faint chemical odor of new that hung in the air. Everything seemed to have a plaque attached to it, indicating who donated the money for it. Jack was starting to get bored but nodded his head at the appropriate times and looked for any opportunity to question Brendan.
“What was Michelle’s role here?”
“I’ll show you on the second floor. That’s where the new computer lab is. Michelle did a great job overseeing the backup generators, updating the servers, and increasing the storage capacities. More and more we’re moving to video, and that takes a lot of space.”
“When did she find the time for all that?”
“It takes a lot of dedication. She was here all the time.” Brendan paused outside a large glass wall. On the other side computer lights flashed and flickered in three separate rows.
Jack noticed all of the security cameras around the computer room and the card reader attached to the door. “You have a lot of security here.” Jack pointed at the card reader.
“It’s almost all done. That was the last part Michelle was working on. I have one of the first new cards.” He scanned it through the card reader at the door. Jack noticed it was a blue card with his picture on it.
He followed Brendan out, and the level they were now on was all glass to the rear of the building. The result was a panoramic view of the woods. A solid white wall with a large double door in the middle split the lower level in half.
Brendan gestured to the breathtaking view of the woods. “The college purchased it five years ago. The makeover has been going on as long as I’ve been here. This way.”
He motioned Jack down a staircase that led to the lowest level. At the bottom of the staircase were two closed metal doors. Neither door had a sign on it, and Brendan wasn’t offering any advice as to the correct way to go. Jack paused at the bottom of the stairs.
Like I’ll ask for directions.
Jack opened the closed door on the left. A cement hallway stretched out into the darkness.
Brendan smirked and pointed to the other door. “That’s a utility corridor, this way.”
Jack let Brendan lead and tried to unclench his fists.
They walked down another corridor until they came to a large double door. Brendan swiped his card and the doors opened. A short hallway split left and right with doors at the end
s. This section had the feel of a hospital as everything was white and sterile.
“This way to the lab.” Brendan walked to the left and into a small hallway filled with cubes along the wall. He pulled out a small plastic tray from one cube. “Do you have any ferromagnetic materials?”
“What?”
“Metal?” Brendan rolled his eyes as he pointed up to the caution sign. No Metal Beyond This Point.
Jack bit his tongue but made a show of it as he un-chambered his Glock .40 caliber gun, dropping the clip into his hand. “Do you have a secure location for this?” Jack pulled the slide back to remove the round in the chamber.
“We get all sorts of visitors.” Brendan walked over and opened a safe. “It will be secure in here.”
Jack took his time while he placed his gun inside. He closed the door himself and tried the handle to make sure it locked. “What would happen if I went in with it?”
“It would be bad. I’ve seen accident reports from other facilities where careless hospital workers brought wheelchairs, gurneys, and even floor polishers too close and they got jammed deep inside. Some police officer had his pistol fly out of his holster and shot a hole in the wall when it hit the magnet.”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. Google it. It was in a New York Times article recently. And that was only a regular MRI. The fMRI is twenty times more powerful.”
“What about the metal in here?” Jack pointed to a fire extinguisher. “Why doesn’t it get sucked up?”
Brendan patted the wall. “Shielding. It’s was part of the biggest expense but it surrounds the machine.” He moved over to a door. Another swipe and it opened. “The fMRI is in here.” Jack followed and found himself in some kind of control booth. A computer console in front of a large window looked out to a room that appeared as if it belonged in a hospital. A large circular machine was in the main room, centered over a stretcher, and looked to be in use. On a monitor in the control booth, Jack could see a smiling girl lying on the stretcher. Her body was inside of the long tube, surrounded by the machine. The ring was the size of two large tractor tires. It reflected in the pristine black tiled floor.
Girl Jacked Page 16
